


Look at the Devil

by pantlesshero



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, sam has a boner for the devil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 02:59:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantlesshero/pseuds/pantlesshero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Open your eyes, Sammy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look at the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> if you squint really, really hard, you might find sam's part in this a little but dubcon. but it wasn't written that way.

Sometimes, Sam still dreamt of the devil. 

He never opened his eyes, though, let alone acknowledged the voice scratching at his insides. Not when his brother was close.  
After leaving the Roman Industries' headquarters, all by himself, shaken to his core, he'd driven as far as he could, only stopping for gas and liquor, and then checked into a motel he hadn't bothered to even read the name of.  
They had won, they had saved the world, again, and yet he wasn't victorious. Not relieved, or proud.  
First and foremost, he was alone. 

But he knew this wasn't a dream, not a product of his own loneliness, because he felt Lucifer's breath ghosting over his cheek, and His voice made his core shake with body memory.

“We've been over that, Sammy, haven't we? You're wrong to the world, but I'm the only one who can see you. I'm no part of it.“  
Sam swallowed heavily, his shirt sticking to his chest, damp with sweat.  
“You're not here.“  
His voice sounded wrong, foreign, low and scratched, like an old record.  
“I'm part of you, Sammy.“

It was as much of a continuation of Lucifer's words as it was an answer to Sam's, and he let out a choked sob at the irony of it. Even after all this time, they still fit seemlessly into each other, and it made it so much harder to hate him. But Sam hated him so much, didn't he?  
“You don't have to blame yourself for this. Just keep going.“

Slowly, Sam turned his head towards where Lucifer lay next to him, and looked at him, his features still but whole. He exhaled inaudibly. The space between them would heat up, if this was real, and Sam's flushed cheeks made the illusion far too perfect.

He let his hand wander further down, back past his open fly, cupping himself through his boxers.  
Everything that happened from now on would've seemed like one of those dreams, where you acted, and somebody was watching but you couldn't stop. Didn't stop, because it wasn't real.

For Sam, it was the same deep-seated draw he'd felt back in the pit, when Lucifer wasn't the only predator. When Lucifer was the tortured one. And Sam had never really admitted it, but watching him burn and tear at the seams, it'd broken him more than anything Lucifer had done to him.  
So he'd given anything for Lucifer not to be this vulnerable any more. Let himself be torn open, observed, held like he wasn't human, like he'd never had a secret.  
It would've been foolish to think Lucifer didn't know that about him.  
“Just keep going.“

Eyes fixed on the tiny beads of sweat that perled on the angel's face, Sam hooked his fingers inside of his underwear, tugging them down far enough for his thick cock to lay freely against his thigh, blood pumping fast through his whole body. It made his skin buzz with anticipation and shame, a whole other fire burning him inside out.  
Licking his lips, he wrapped his long fingers around the shaft, tracing the pulsating vein up all the way to his slit, back and forth.  
“I can feel your breath on my lips, Sammy. It's like I'm really here, isn't it?“

Eyebrows drawn together, Sam let out a choked whimper, hips bucking up into his hand as he turned his whole body to face Lucifer completely. If only he could've closed his eyes, pretended he had a conscience that stopped him from wanting this.  
What he hadn't taken into account was that he was Sam Winchester. The boy with the demon blood. Lucifer's vessel.  
He didn't have a conscience. All he had was the devil.

“Just imagine if I could touch you again, Sam. Like you let me, back in the days. Imagine if you could touch me.“  
A violent shudder went through Sam's body, his stomach muscles contracting underneath the damp fabric of his shirt, and he let go of his cock for a moment, just to rip it off, over his head. The cold air nipping at his sizzling skin was almost painful, but he gladly welcomed it; as long as it let him pretend that it wasn't just a breeze, but the devil's hands once again, cool and soothing to the touch among the hellfire surrounding them.  
“It's still the same, though, isn't it? Maybe all of this is still the same hell. I just want you to need me, Sam. I'm cool to the touch, aren't I?“  
“I wish I knew.“

If he was crying, it didn't show, but his lips were dry and crusted, and his hips started moving more violently as he went back to fisting his cock. It wouldn't matter how real this was, as long as Sam felt just as lost within himself.  
Whatever Lucifer said next, he didn't register; all he remembered was the smooth, raw voice echoing inside his head, whispering sweet everythings into his ear, and the familiar face swimming right before his own.

His grip got tighter, and with every stroke he pressed into his slit, scratching his chest with his other hand, desperately trying to make himself pour out all over the angel, in any way possible. If he inflicted any damage at all, he didn't notice, he felt none of it except Lucifer's cold flames consuming him completely as a fire built in his abdomen and there was nothing but the loud slapping of skin on skin, his own skin and how he hated that it was only his.  
“You're mine, Sam.“

It was all it took to push him over the edge, his hips stuttering helplessly against nothing but thin air, long ropes of come spilling over the bed.  
Eyes squeezed shut, Sam didn't dare to move a muscle. Not until his breathing had calmed, and he'd started shivering from the cold. The fire was gone and as was the voice.  
Biting his lip, Sam slowly wrapped his arms around himself, making no effort to warm up.  
Maybe if he fell asleep like this, he could forget the hell he'd built in his own mind. 

Leaving nothing but the devil watching over him.


End file.
